


Assassins don't work on Halloween

by ARMEN15



Category: Bron | Broen | The Bridge
Genre: Detectives, F/M, Halloween, Halloween Challenge, Post-Canon, Serial Killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2020-12-22 16:37:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21079964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARMEN15/pseuds/ARMEN15
Summary: This story belongs to the October Challenge: trick or treat of the FB Group IL Giardino di EFP





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

“A homicide a week for five weeks in a row, always on the night between Friday and Saturday.”  
“Victims found between homeless people asking for alms. A hot beverage offered them with a powerful sleeping substance. Then they are moved in a hidden spot and their throats are sliced.”  
“And no one sees anything, it’s October, obscurity falls fast and those temporary shelters are always quite dark.”  
Saga Noren, Henrik Sabroe and Lillian Larsen are standing in front of the board beside Lillian’s desk, a new gore case that involves the police of two nations.  
“There’s a pact of silence between the homeless.”  
Saga declares, remembering the two sisters Henrik tried to help, their lies and the mutual support. Her partner passes the coffee mug between his hands, they are all doing overtime; after the third murder, Linn Bjorkman has asked Saga to be temporary back in service.  
Malmo county police needs the brain of its best detective ever, now attending university in a sabbatical leave, offered by Linn to avoid Saga’s definitive resignation; the sabbatical year was prolonged after a very private and a little unexpected event in Saga’s life.  
The challenge of a new case is too tempting for Saga to refuse, like the idea to work with Henrik again.  
Saga looks around, lots of things are new, in a short time Copenhagen central police station moved into an ultra modern building with view over the canal, everything has changed but everything has remained the same, Barbara has more screens around her, Lillian a bigger office and Henrik is her vice, ready to become head detective, too, as soon there will be a vacant position.  
“Today is Monday.” Lillian reads from the calendar; they has lost the notion of time, in the frantic rush of the events. “Only five days to prevent a murder.”  
Herik pours more coffee in his cup, the bitter taste is now a part of him, he don’t remember when he drunk to much, maybe since the nights spent at Astrid’s bedside after the leg injury. He’s used now to stay awake at nights, not at work, at home, a happy place with joy and laughter again.  
Saga cuts her tongue, she knows too well the negative effects of caffeine and stress on Henrik, one thing she is sure of, he doesn’t risk to go back to his old vices, now he has a family again.  
“There must be a trace, one we cannot find. The killer moves alternately from Copenhagen to Malmo, next time it will be in Malmo.”  
Saga’s statement is obvious, Henrik answers by mere reflex  
“Malmo is smaller, we can control it better.”  
His forced optimism covers the lack of ideas.  
Linn enters into Lillian’ office without knocking, she holds a Malmo map showing the places where the homeless concentrate; Saga places it over the map of the homicides.  
“The circle narrows.” states Linn, noticing that there are three areas at high risk: a bus terminal, the central street between a cinema and the theatre and under the entrance of an abandoned church.  
“We need to go undercover. We won’t accept food or drinks or even cigarettes.” Lillian orders and takes a sheet to form the teams, a detective of each country for a total of six.  
“Henrik and I go at the cinema’s, it’s close to a few restaurants’ back door.”  
“You’re not obliged to.”  
Linn believes it’s not professional to team two detectives deeply involved in a personal relationship, especially one like Saga and Henrik’s, but she knows it is impossible to divers Saga Noren from a choice already made.  
Lillian nods. “You’ll need clothes and make up.”  
Henrik without a word takes from Saga’s hand the sheet with their placement; he trusts her ability since she saved Astrid, he’ll never let her go on a mission again without him by her side.  
“Astrid will take care of the make up, her school cooperates with a young troupe and the students help behind the curtains before matineès.”


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 

“Dad, stay still or the beard won’t glue well.”  
Astrid Sabroe continues to press the adhesive side on her father’s cheek, while Saga spreads on her face a foundation mixed with a substance similar to coal dust.   
“This is awful.” She declares, sniffing the plastic box. “ And it has a bad scent.”  
“We’ll be around people who don’t wash themselves for days.” Henrik replies; he hates the idea to wear his old shirt, the one ruined with a large stain when the bol pan slipped from his fingers because his son let out a cry and he run to him.   
The shirt was one of Alice’s last gift, forgotten at the bottom of the wardrobe; Saga has forced him to take it out.  
He’s the one with a large collection of shower gels and aftershaves on the bathroom, his celan scent a personal trait, but clothes are part of this game. Henrik hates also when Saga lends him the foundation, it’s Astrid who has to prepare him, while he complains about what he has to endure, getting a make up like a woman.   
“Actors do it every day, dad, don’t be so negative.”  
Two pair of trousers with holes and patches, a worn out man’s jacket and a stained woman coat are hanging in the bathroom, together with Henri’s old boots he uses for gardening; Astrid did a good work in ruining the items from the theatre, “Les Miserables”, a great success the previous spring.  
“I’ll wear my old leather trousers, the one with a huge cut in the knee. They are worn out enough.”  
Astrid examines the idem and agrees, they do seem right for the part; if Saga is more comfy with her old things, it’s the best for the task.  
Saga looks at her reflection in the entrance mirror and does a step back, the woman with dirty face, stubble hair and dark bags under the eyes is not her, but it is her.  
The distance between a normal life and misery is narrow, fast as a wing beat, or in her case a layer of make up.  
First time as undercover in her police career; strange but true, she now understands her former self was unable to do so, Hans has forbidden every time she has volunteered, kind but determinate.  
A thin middle line runs between absolute honesty and its opposite, Saga has learned it at a high price.  
Now she has to play lie and truth, they are two desperate tramps and they are a real couple, Henrik is close, alive, her man is her strength, her firm point.  
She’s got him, for sure.   
They share a house, a family, a child and soon they‘ll meet people who have had few and lost much.   
A goodbye to Astrid, a pat for the dog, a kiss to her sleeping son and Saga is driving Henrik’s car, they cross the bridge, its lights vanish into the rising fog.  
Full autumn, it’s cold, the gloves are in the car compartment, full with things forgotten by Astrid.   
Before leaving the car at the meting point where Linn’s van is waiting for them, Henrik calls home, it doesn’t matter if he already knows his daughter will say he don’t trust her enough and repeats her brother is ok; she’s watching a movie with her best girlfriend who will sleep over.  
Overprotective parents, both now.  
They stroll in silence along the sidewalk, turn two corners, unnoticed, homeless are ghosts for the normal people. Henrik has a black backpack, pretending it’s full of their few belongings.  
They are bare in their costumes.  
No phones, watches, money, documents.   
The only proof they are police is the earplug hidden behind earlobes, connection with Linn and the rest of the world. Saga clings to it, it feels too much like her time in prison, deprived of her identity; the main difference is the man beside her. She clings to his arm, too.   
An hour passes with no strange movements, they sit close under an arch behind the theatre, keeping a good distance from the others. Her new gloves are to suspicious to wear, her fingers are freezing and Henrik takes hands between his.   
They exchanges back and forth a paper bag with a bottle that must appear wodka but is only water and they share brief comments on the people they see, whispering in silence.  
The man who talks at loud voice to himself, another who stands up and turns around the garbage bin, the woman who arranges her poor things for the night.   
Henrik keeps Saga close, his protective instinct strong, an arm around her shoulders, the other hand that delicately controls the position of her gun kick, hidden in the holster under layers of clothes. Both are armed, they have used the small polygon under the office building to shoot, a little exercise for both, to keep a good scoring.  
Henrik Sabroe don’t like to kill, but he knows how, if obliged, if he has to protect the woman he loves.


	3. Chapter 3

Smells are the things that surprise Saga the most, rancid food, garbage, sweat, unwashed bodies, clothese worn for weeks.  
She realizes Henrik and herself are not suffering like those people, it’s all fake, there’s a house waiting for them in a few hours, a comfortable life to return to.  
Three volunteers arrive to offer hot food, the order is refuse everything, Henrik shouts something incoherent to keep away the man approaching with two steaming plastic cups.  
The man wears a bib with a red cross, a charity church group; he does a good thing, useful, Saga decides she’ll speak with Henrik if they could join such a group at home, offer once a week an hour of their free time to help.  
This unusual impulse to do something to people for free, not work related: Saga’s learning new things to discuss with her therapyst. When they listen to her old tapes, she can’t believe how much she evolved.  
At the earplug, Linn informs the area near the abandoned church is empty because street washing wet and iced the place, the couple of colleagues ise with Linn inside the van, Lillian joined them, too.  
Saga answers in code, the surveillance continues.  
They don’t talk a lot with each other, their bond never requested many words, living together reinforced the mutual comprehension: Astrid often states her father and Saga speak with silences.  
A drug dealer arrives by car, stops behind the bus and two men go to him; voices, discussions, they leave with something white in hand. Saga fells Henrik’s tension, she stays silent, he’s clean, goes to the support group, but that fragility will never leave him.  
Her own impulse to arrest the dealer has to be restrained, she compartmentalize what’s still hard to achieve.  
Henrik asks Linn what time is it, 9 p.m., everyone get ready for the night; steps from the left, a man staggers, or pretends so, he’s tall, an empty bottle in hand.  
Henrik touches Saga’s wrist, she alters, whispering with Linn, controlling again the gun for confirmation; Saga is a nervous, she didn’t shoot at a living target for two years now – it was one shot only, in the eye – but she’ll do it again, in case of need.  
The tall man observes them, Saga’s stare is blank, she don’t want to challenge anyone, there are unwritten rules between homeless; Linn’s van is close and two garbage collectors working along the streets are policemen.  
Henrik stands and goes to the man, holding a bottle that do contain alcohol; an offer the tramp cannot refuse and that assures them to be left in peace for a while.  
“Good.” Saga praises him; attention to details is his main ability, at home Henrik takes care of all the practical aspects of everyday life for three adults and a toddler.  
“We’re wasting our time.” Henrik declares, he wants to go home and tell Hans a bedtime story, help Astrid with her French essay, cook while the family watches television.  
”We must stay until midnight. I’m sure he’s around.”  
Tension mounts, they control the hour on the advertising panel over a building that every ten minutes restarts the program.  
Laughter from the back door of the theatre, the artists are leaving; Saga notices they are wearing strange masks and costumes, orange and black. Monsters, vampires, witches.  
She turns to Henrik and curses at low voice. He understood, Halloween, the American celebration has invaded Scandinavia, a combination that blows up all theories and careful planning.  
Before they can alert Linn, the group from the theatre pass by and a folded leaflet falls near Saga’s foot. She extend her hand to grab it but Henrik stops her, controlling around, until the group turns around the corner.  
“They reckon us. Let’s wait and then leave.” He whispers.  
When Saga has the leaflet, they walk away, Henrik supporting Saga pretending she’s not well, stumbling into a flower vase and falling on her knees.  
Inside the van, they read the message.  
“Assassins don’t work on Halloween.” Written with letters cut from a national newspaper.  
Saga’s face cannot hide her disappointment; she knows there will be no fingerprints, the people wore costumes and she has seen lots of gloved hands.  
“It was all perfect, you did everything right.” Lillian praises the team and Linn calls John to control camera surveillance.  
“The writer of the sheet was hidden between the theatre people or was one of them. He did it on purpose.”  
“Saga, you and Henrik go home, tomorrow we’ll have a meeting and decide what to do.”  
At home, there is time to share a plate of pumpkin – shaped biscuits with Astrid and her friend, curled up on the couch watching a silly Zombie movie on tv while baby Hans is not impressed.  
Henrik don’t confess his daughter that a police car has controlled their neighbourhood more than usual when he is away on a mission, he cant’ let something bad happens to his children.  
After spending half the night wake on the couch, holding Hans and revisiting the events of the evening, Saga comes up with a theory. She grabs the phone to call John, then reads it is three o’ clock and he is sure asleep. It must wait till morning.  
Henrik is another matter, she goes to the bedroom and wakes him up; his sleep is always light now, to hear if Hans cries. Henrik don’t protest when Saga handles him the baby and goes to pick up her tablet, they lie on the bed and discuss at low voice while their son continue to sleep between the pillows.  
“On Friday there are often have often premieres, so we need to control the murders and their closeness to places of entertainment. Halloween was a deviation to the normality and so the killer stays hidden, but not completely, the desire to impress us is too strong.“  
“So he wants us to recognize his work?”  
“Common between serials. Their fantasy is limited, in the end it always reduces to the desire to be caught, they are never smart enough to win over us.”  
\---  
Next Friday evening the net is ready, Henrik and Saga are again two tramps, an art gallery is hosting a premiere.  
Saga has made a bet with Linn who almost don’t believe it – such a trivial thing for Saga Noren – and it’s about her theory regarding the killer. The prize is a gift card for books or a dinner at a good restaurant.  
Lots of people enters or leave the gallery, some people of the catering are police, controlling carefully. A man stands near the entrance smoking cigarettes, just two shots each, never putting down his backpack.  
“Control his photo.” Saga texts John, the answer is fast, the man walks away and Saga gives the order. Soon the man is handcuffed and in his backpack a collection of sharp knives, forensic will find traces of the previous homicides.  
“How do you got him?” Henrik asks, driving home much later, they are inside the bridge tunnel.  
“Normal people don’t smoke that way. A stress induced situation only can cause a similar behavior.”  
“You’re the best, Saga, always.”


End file.
